


Seven EASY Steps to Making New Friends— [insert Despite the Fact You Make Others Uncomfortable]

by ramify



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Batman - Freeform, Gotham City Police Department, Humor, M/M, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5339123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramify/pseuds/ramify
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all know how difficult it can be to find that <i>"special"</i> someone in your life, but it's just as, if not more, difficult to make friends! Everyone needs that very special friend you can always count on! You know, the one who is always there to bail you out or be a shoulder to cry on? Follow these simple steps and you will find yourself with a new best friend in NO TIME.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven EASY Steps to Making New Friends— [insert Despite the Fact You Make Others Uncomfortable]

 

> ****Step One: Do It Blind** **
> 
> _You have heard of the cliché “blind date”— a friend sets you up with someone who is the perfect match for you. This is very similar, but completely platonic. If you have recently moved, have a mutual friend set you up on a play date with one of her friends who lives close to your new location!_

 

Well, the article never said you couldn’t indirectly set up this date yourself, now, did it?  The always clever Oswald and yet he always had to do things the hard way; the more intricate way. Certainly makes for a great story, doesn’t it?

Oswald was ambitious, in both aspects of climbing to the top and claiming difficult persons as allies. He had set it all up, and figured he could kill two birds with one stone; gain Falcone’s trust and find himself an ally. It certainly helped in a life of crime to have a friend with a gun _and_ a badge. He wasn’t completely sure Jim Gordon wouldn’t shoot, but that’s the fun part; the risk, though to be _completely_ honest he would rather _not_ die.

He had set up this _blind date_ before he had even read the article. It was both Jim’s _kindness_ and _hostility_ that sparked the flame to their friendship; well, it certainly was a dwindling flame, but a flame nonetheless!

“ _Don’t ever come back to, Gotham,”_ Jim had said, and then Oswald was in the water. He didn’t surface for a long time, but he ignored the ache in his lungs despite his desperation for air— Gotham air; that grimy, gritty, not-so-sweet Gotham air that he had come to know and love. Oswald wouldn’t be able to taste his city for a short while, but in the meantime, he would learn a thing or two about making friends. His last friendship had not ended so well, if one could even call it a friendship; Mooney had him rubbing her feet like a servant. No, an umbrella boy was no _friend_ , but he was sure that Jim Gordon needed one—a friend, not an umbrella boy. God, Oswald would _not_ go through that again.

 

 

> **Step Two: Be Yourself!**
> 
> _Certain hobbies or activities you enjoy may just lead to you meeting someone with similar interests! So go ahead, check out that book reading downtown or sign up for pottery class you have been dying to try out! It could just lead to your Maid of Honor._

Oswald would be lying if the article hadn’t irked him slightly when it insinuated that he was woman; that only women could be curious as to how one pursues a friendship, but he had to admit that he had attended a book reading or two. Hell, who was he kidding? That pottery class mother had him try out was a blast, but that was beside the point.

The article insists that one be their self, but hadn’t that brought him here in the first place? Being himself had lead him to a desire to be on top with a side of gimp leg. There was no way he could _completely_ be himself, no, not at first. That got him thinking.

What did he and detective Jim Gordon have in common? That certainly was simple and a rather quick solution. Given up? It’s crime, of course! Given the body count Oswald had racked up in the past day, he was certainly on the right track.

The first man he had killed was a fisherman the moment he surfaced from Gotham River. He had planned on practicing making friends, but he was hungry and cold.

He didn’t make an attempt at friendship until two complete buffoons had been so _kind_ as to stop and pick Oswald up, after a long, agonizing walk. Even though he was in pain, he was tolerant of their joke; driving off the moment he reached for the handle and laughing as he hobbled up the road towards them. The moment they let him open the door, he had hopped in before they had the chance to drive off again; they probably would have left him that time, had he not.

Seeing this as an opportunity to make allies, Oswald had thanked them, expressing his gratitude.

He apologized for his appearance, assuring them that this was _not_ an ordinary day for him.

They shared a beer with him, and although he had a much more distinguished taste, he accepted their offer of, what he assumed, friendship.

 _“Here I am, riding around in a lovely truck, sharing an ice-cold beer with my new friends. My luck’s already turned, right?”_ Not at all.

Oswald killed the driver with a broken beer bottle after the man’s _penguin_ comment, and then knocked out the passenger. It was quiet the struggle to get the young man’s foot off the gas pedal before the truck crashed into something outside, in the middle of nowhere. It was obvious that the two young men, judging by the vehicle and the clothes they wore, were from wealthy families who may just provide Oswald with the money he needs to start anew; his bank accounts would surely be wiped out by now. Upon tying the passenger up, he rented out a trailer using the money he found in both their wallets— what on Earth was a _big hemi?_

The boy’s mother did not believe Oswald when he called her the first time. She asked for proof. He had sent a video and waited for her to call back, begging for her son’s life, but instead she was screaming. Much so to the point that Oswald had to pull the phone away from his ear, but alas, the woman did not believe him. She hung up on him and Oswald couldn’t help the smile from forming on his face.

But! Before he killed him, he had to know. _“How did you two become friends?”_

They had met in the second grade. He’d like the other one’s shirt. How _boring._

 

 

> **Step Three: Get Up Close and Personal!**
> 
> _When you are trying to get to know someone, make sure to talk about something bigger that the terrible weather or airline food—that’s boring! Try what researchers call the Fast Friends technique; gradually disclose something meaningful about her! For example, try asking them the question: “If you had one last day to live, how would you to choose live it?”_

That seemed easy enough. Asking a question, but before Oswald could get personal, he had to first get up close to the detective. He had arrived in Gotham via bus; a bus full of church-going, tone-deaf, old hags. It wasn’t the best way in, but it had gotten him thus far.

A man had recognized him before he was able to go about his plans, and Oswald was forced to kill him. It was fight or flight instinct, and Oswald had chosen fight. Plus, he had a hankering for a tuna fish sandwich.

His plan to rise was _finally_ set in motion when his persistence got him a job at Maroni’s restaurant, one of his joints he frequents the most. He would take washing dishes over rubbing Fish’s crackled, scaly feet any day of the week— however, he would prefer to have Tuesday’s off; he and his mother had to have a night together to watch their Soaps.

Maroni had always been the dumb brute, willing to accept any lie, and fast to make friends. However, Maroni was making friends with Paolo, not Oswald, at least not right away. It would only be a matter of time though, and so far, Sal Maroni was proving to be quite the gullible gangster.

But enough about Maroni! Oswald had been in Gotham for nearly a week and he hadn’t been to see his desired target—at least when it came to friendship, rather than killing. Jim had only been a short walk away all this time; Gotham was a large city, but when one has lived there long enough, it seems the size of their hand.

Oswald had known Gordon was _involved_ with a woman, and he had certainly expected her to look absolutely _stunning_ ; all the best for Jim Gordon, right? They would all become very close acquaintances one day, so Oswald charmed her, but he wasn’t much concerned with that. His mind was elsewhere—it had felt so _satisfying_ to call Jim a friend, and aloud too; even if Jim was playing hard to get, friendship-wise of course.

Oh, how Oswald’s heart fluttered about in his chest when Jim offered to walk him out. The fluttering was replaced by a mixture of fear and annoyance as the detective dragged him to the elevator and out of the building. Before Oswald could do anything, Jim had him shoved him against the wall.

Oswald’s mind unusually went blank in that moment and he struggled to find the words to speak. “I like your shirt, Jim. Suits you very nice.” He had spoken before he even realized what he had said. Jim was apparently not in the mood for pleasantries and ignored him.

“I told you _never_ to come back here!”

“I know, I know. I-I apologize, but I-I just wanted to speak with you!”

“If Falcone finds out you are alive, he will kill us both.”

“I got no place else to go. Gotham is my home.”

It hurt when Jim said that he should have killed Oswald; that he should do so right now, but he was only scared, Oswald decided. Jim would never harm another without reason, and he certainly couldn’t kill Oswald. Not after letting him live the first time; it just wasn’t in him.

Jim let go of Oswald and stormed off a few feet away from Oswald.

“And you have every right to do so, but you won’t Jim Gordon, because you are a good man. You may very well be the last good man in Gotham, and that’s why I want to help you.” To show his sincerity, Oswald held a shaky hand to his heart.

Of course Jim, the stoic hero would deny help.

“No, no, but you need it,” Oswald had smiled, his coal black hair falling out of place. “That _vile_ creature Fish Mooney, Don Falcone, the police—not even your own partner trusts you! They will _always_ hide the truth from you! But _not_ me. Never.” He gave a light hearted chuckle. “You saved my life.”

“God knows I wish I hadn’t.”

Oswald was losing him, and he needed Gordon to trust him. For both the sake of their friendship and his desire to be at the top, but mostly friendship, of course. He searched the street for an answer when he found a broken beer bottle on the ground and scrambled to grab it. “Kill me now, or trust me!”

Another flutter of his heart when Jim slapped the broken bottle out of Oswald’s hand.

“I told you there’s a war coming, Jim. There will be so many deaths—so many. You want to save Gotham? I can help you. I can be your secret agent!” He hobbled up to Jim, desperate to be close to his friend. To show Jim he meant it. Oswald didn’t think about the possibility that Jim would take a step forward when he turned around, and of course, Jim intended to be menacing, but their faces were _very_ close together.

And Jim just had to ruin the _friendly_ moment. “Until Falcone finds out you’re alive.”

“Nobody looks for a dead man. Hm?”

 _There we go._ Finally, that look of trust was showing in Jim’s eyes. “This war, what are you talking about? Why will there be a war?” Hook, line, and sinker.

“As you know, war is just politics by other means. And isn’t politics just money?” Oswald took a step forward. “Talking?”

“Talking about what?”

“If you had one more day to live, how would you spend it?”

“What? Is that a threat?” Jim had him by the collar again, snarling. _That_ certainly wasn’t the right question to ask at that moment, and when the group of teenagers started causing a ruckus, Jim had let go of Oswald to look at the teenagers, ready to diffuse whatever situation was at hand. Oswald took that as his cue to leave, scolding himself the entire way back home.

 

 

> **Step Four: Self-Disclosure**
> 
> _We all have acquaintances—people we exchange small talk with as we go about our day. These relationships can be fulfilling in their own right, but sometimes you need more! True friends know things about each other; their values, struggles goals, and interests. Knock down your walls and open yourself up! Trusts that others may help you in a time of need._

 

Oswald hadn’t quite expected _this_ to happen exactly, but he had expected Maroni would be hesitant to trust him when the truth came out. Now he was waiting on Jim to tell Maroni the exact same story he had, but Jim had every opportunity to lie and be rid of Oswald. The thought scared Oswald; maybe he had destroyed all trust during their last encounter—when Jim believed Oswald had threatened him. Then again, Maroni would probably just kill them both, and Jim didn’t seem the suicidal type.

He had spoken one too many times out of turn, and Maroni had his men put Oswald on the _slicer_. Oswald could still hear.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Go on.”

The blade was whirring in front of Oswald’s face. He felt a bead of sweat drip, and fall onto the blade. He could also feel Gordon’s eyes glance at him from time to time. “I was a pawn in a conspiracy between Falcone, the mayor, and the GCPD to frame Mario Pepper for the Wayne murders—with the help of Fish Mooney, Mr. Cobblepot’s employer at the time.”

Another bead of sweat had fallen onto the blade, and he was so close, that this time he could feel the sprinkle of sweat when the blade caught it.

“Mr. Cobblepot then told the whole story to MCU. To prove that I woudn’t betray the conspiracy, Falcone ordered me to kill Cobblepot. I didn’t do it.”

A flood of relief wash over Oswald.

“I let him live. And here we are.”

Finally Maroni spoke. “Falcone, Mooney, the MCU cops… None of them know he’s alive?”

Back to Jim. “If they did, I’d be dead already.”

Maroni burst into a fit of laughter and shout out. “Frankie! Bring the Penguin back out here. The little punk is telling the truth.”

Before he left, Jim’s eyes met Oswald’s for a brief moment and Oswald could have sworn he saw something behind those blue eyes. It could have also been something with the light. Anyway—

Thank God (if there is one) for Jim Gordon.

 

 

> **Step Five: Get Yourself Out There!**
> 
> _Once you involve yourself more with your inner circle of friends, the next step will be to extend it outward to people you don’t know! Go to that party Susan is having for her daughter, or visit that brand new bar downtown. Don’t be afraid to get out there!_

 

Well, Oswald was definitely not going to attend Susan’s party for her daughter, nor was he going to be visiting any bars downtown, but he would be making a stop to the GCPD—just as Jim had saved Oswald, it was now time for Oswald to save Jim. It won’t be long until Montoya and Allen will be heading to the GCPD to arrest Gordon (something a little birdie had told Oswald—he had eyes everywhere). The article _did_ say to _“get out there”_ , had it not?

Mother knew something was up, but she always expected it to be a woman. She never could quite get over her jealousy when it came to other women in Oswald’s life, but there had never been any other women. However, mother just couldn’t help her imagination; she always said he couldn’t trust anyone but mother.

“But you know what? I think I finally found somebody I can trust. A policeman.”

Mother was appalled. “Police? The police are liars.”

“Not this one, Mom. He’s a _real_ friend.”

She didn’t seem quite on board, but she didn’t protest.

“He’ll help me come out right in the end.”

Once Oswald was finished with his bath, he dressed in the suit mother prepared for him. She smoothed the coat and adjusted the folds before cupping Oswald’s face in her hands. “So handsome.”

Oswald smiled before placing a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you, mother, but I must be going. I shan’t be late.”

He wasn’t late. Oswald had showed up exactly on time as he always did. Jim was adamant that he hadn’t killed Oswald, even desperate to have his partner believe him. Allen spoke up, rushing to Bullock to cuff him for being an accomplice in Oswald’s _so-called_ murder. The scene before Oswald, albeit terrible for Jim, was rather humorous. Cops scrambling to defend themselves and arrest each other over a crime that never actually happened, shouting at each other like savages—it was absolutely _priceless._ Oswald was certainly happy to have witnessed the coppers in a frenzy, even if it was behind a cracked door.

“Yeah, you got a problem! You got a real problem, you…”

Oswald had decided that he had gotten his fill of bickering police men and women. He stepped fully into the police department, allowing the doors close behind him with a heavy thud and that was when Harvey Bullocks eyes landed on him.

“Holy crap.”

All eyes were on him, even Jim’s. Especially Jim.

“Hello! I am Oswald Cobblepot.”

 

 

> **Step Six: Make the Effort to Stay in Touch**
> 
> _You need to stay in contact in order to remain friends! Things will get real awkward if you ditch them for a while and try to pick up later as though you two haven’t talked in months. Make sure to invite them out, or send them a quick text every so often—just so they understand they still mean a lot to you._

 

Oswald arrived to the GCPD  with far too much excitement. He’d leaned against some cop’s desk as he waited for Jim—off doing something important, most likely. The moment he saw Jim up on the higher platform, Oswald’s face lit up and a big smile spread across his cheeks. He didn’t even notice that Jim had rolled his eyes, or at least he _pretended_ he didn’t notice. With a quick glance to Bullock, who said something Oswald could not hear, Jim walked to Oswald.

“It’s good to see you, old _friend_.”

“What do you want?” Silly Jim. All business, no play.

“I wanted to invite you to a _party_ I’m hosting.” Oswald handed over the invitation he’d been playing with in his hands. Since he got the nightclub, he was ecstatic. Absolutely excited. Bubbling with joy. The first person he thought to invite to the grand opening _was_ Jim, and he’d even made a special invitation for his friend that _he_ himself would deliver.

Jim did _not_ hold the invitation in his hands like it was going to explode, but he _did_ hand it back with a confused expression. “No thanks.”

He might as well have torn out Oswald’s still-beating heart, thrown it onto the ground, stomped on it three times, and driven over it for good measure. Still, Oswald held his smile. “I hear you. Too busy, I suppose.” His confidence faltered when Jim put his hands on his hips and looked around as he thought of a way to escape. “Are you on a tricky case? Anything I can help you with?” Now Jim was looking around to see if anyone had heard what Oswald said. “It worked so well last time.”

“I don’t want your help.” Another blow to the heart. “It was a mistake to ask.” A stab in the chest. Oswald wasn’t sure if he could be anymore hurt. “I don’t want you coming _here.”_ Well, Oswald has been wrong before.

Instead of acting hurt, Oswald decided to act tough. If Jim was going to play that game, so would he. You shouldn’t treat me this way, Jim. One day soon, you will need _my_ help. You’ll come to me. And walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light.” He hoped that his sharp words had pierced through Gordon’s safety vest. Oswald looked Jim up and down with a hurt frown. “Good luck with your police work, and please reconsider my invitation.” He’d grabbed Jim’s hand and placed the invitation back into the other man’s palm, holding on for a few lingering moments. “It won’t be the same without you.”

 

 

> **Step Seven: Don’t take it Personally!**
> 
> _We all know the expression “it’s not you, it’s me” used with romantic partners! It’s the same with platonic relationships. Sometimes some friendships don’t work out and that is perfectly fine. You just have to keep searching and stay positive._

 

This was it. Apparently Mr. James "Goody-Two-Shoes" Gordon was just far _too good of a man_  to be Oswald’s friend.

It made Oswald bitter to no end, but he would have to finally accept that Jim was only using him for favors that he would never return. After he’d almost left Oswald for dead, after Oswald had to _convince_ Jim that it would _not_ be a goodthing to do, seeing as Oswald was under his custody. Not mention how utterly _ungrateful_ Jim was when Oswald had gotten Loeb to reintegrate the _greedy_ little detective. Of course, he’d only agree to helping if Jim collected a debt for him—why on Earth was Jim so upset when he was forced to kill the man? Odgen Barker was a low life, a bottom feeder, and he contributed _nothing_ to society. At least his guilt gave Oswald  _some_ leverage.

However the worst part was when Oswald had been forced to _help_ Theo Galavan in exchange for his mother’s _life._ Jim had found out about the murders Oswald had committed in the name of Galavan, but he hardly wanted to think about it. Oswald had done good enough to push it from his mind, but the fact of the matter was that Jim Gordon was _no_ friend of Oswald Cobblepot’s.

In fact, Jim Gordon was the _enemy_.

He crumpled up the article he had always kept on him for the past year and hurled it across the room. It was stupid, not to mention completely useless. Of course they had to add in that last step in order to hide from the harsh reality—that there is no point in making friends when you are the bad guy.

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of inspired by [this wonderful story!](https://m.fanfiction.net/s/5918103/1/How-to-Romance-a-Human) If you like Supernatural (and Destiel) please, please, please read it! It is absolutely adorable!


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